


Buddy Meets the Parents

by appending_fic



Series: Valuation [5]
Category: Buddy Thunderstruck (Cartoon)
Genre: Bad Parenting, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Just Lots of Physical Affection, Look Buddy Just Loves Darnell, M/M, Maybe Not Abuse But Not How You Should Treat Your Kids, Meet the Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 17:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13768875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appending_fic/pseuds/appending_fic
Summary: "Oh my gosh my parents!"Darnell has to re-introduce Buddy to his parents as his fiance, and Buddy gets to see the Fetzervalves in their natural habitat.





	1. Chapter 1

"Oh my gosh my parents!"

Buddy grumbled and shifted next to Darnell, tucking his head into Darnell's hip, which, as Darnell had bolted awake, was the most he could reach.

"Wha?"

"I never told my parents I'm getting married. I need to call them, or should I maybe write - thank goodness we didn't do a newspaper announcement or they'd kill me having to find out that way-"

Darnell tried to twist to get out of bed, only to find Buddy's arms locked around his waist. "No. We agreed three a.m. is a terrible idea; it's for sleeping through so we don't have to experience it."

"But-"

"I have met your parents, and I am certain they feel the same way. You can call them in the morning - we both can!"

"Urgh." Darnell let himself be pulled back into bed, falling back as he did so. "That might be awkward."

Buddy poked Darnell's side. "What's wrong?"

"There's...a lot of stuff my parents don't know about me. In order, that I'm getting married, that I'm bisexual, that I'm half of a local racing duo, that I never went to college for mechanical engineering like they wanted, and that I was the one who broke my father's favorite lamp when I was twelve."

"Well, all of those are things you can worry about at a time of day that we allow to exist." Buddy pulled Darnell in as close as he could manage, tucked Darnell's head under his chin, and fell back asleep.

Buddy was still unfazed the next morning, apparently calm enough to make omelets (somehow his quest to discover what brunch was had led to an interest in real cooking Darnell was trying hard not to take advantage of) while Darnell paced.

"Come on." A firm hand pushed Darnell to the table, and then down into a chair; a bacon and cheese omelet sat on the table, steaming gently. "Eat."

Darnell tried, but was poking slightly more than actually eating. Buddy, his own omelet appearing to contain actual leftover Chinese takeout, kicked Darnell's ankle gently.

"Come on, Darnell. I remember your parents were always nice to me."

"Yeah, as one of my delinquent friends, not as the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life with!"

"Delinquent?" Buddy's ears were drooping. "I am pretty sure I was a delight."

"Sorry, Buddy." Darnell patted Buddy's head, offering a scratch that perked the dog back up. "My mother called all my friends from shop class delinquents."

"Well as we both know I am not a delinquent-" Darnell took a moment to consider whether Buddy actually knew what 'delinquent' meant, "you can call your parents and tell them all about me and rest assured they will love you even more knowing you've decided to marry me."

Darnell took one more bite of his omelet and stood. "Alright, I'm making the call. But only because you have unwavering faith in me and that you'll cuddle me if this goes poorly."

Darnell's mother answered on the second ring. "Darnell? It's not my birthday."

Darnell bit back a sigh, at least a little because he probably _hadn't_ called his parents since their anniversary. "Um, I had news I wanted to share with you."

"Oh?"

"I'm getting married. In October."

"Oh! Well, then we absolutely must meet her!"

"Mother-"

"Friday should do; you know when we start cocktails."

"I just think you should know one thing before we-"

"Oh, we're running late. I'll see you Friday, Darnell."

Darnell returned to the table to find Buddy eating the remainder of Darnell's omelet, a mostly inevitable consequence of leaving his food unguarded. "Do you want the bad news or the other bad news?"

"Aww." Buddy patted Darnell's hip, still eating his omelet. "Everything is going to be fine."

"We have to go to their house for drinks and dinner on Friday, and I didn't get around to telling them who I was marrying."

"Okay, come on."

Buddy stood and guided Darnell to the couch and pushing him down.

"What-"

Buddy then dropped next to Darnell and flopped down over his lap. He grabbed Darnell's hand and put it top of his own head.

"There."

"Buddy, why am I cuddling you when I'm upset?"

"I read somewhere that petting a dog is scientifically proven to reduce stress and promote a healthy heart. So…"

Darnell moved his hand slowly, alternately petting and lightly scratching the top of Buddy's head, while Buddy hummed contentedly. And while Darnell originally suspected Buddy just wanted Darnell's hands on him, it _was_ relaxing running his fingers through Buddy's fur.

"Now that you've calmed down, we can talk about how I am going to impress your parents."

Darnell paused in his petting. "You said my parents liked you!"

"Well, sure, but there's a difference between liking Buddy Thunderstruck, racing legend, and Buddy Thunderstruck, son-in-law. I gotta prove I can provide for you."

"Provide for me?" Darnell tugged at Buddy's ears. "You've said on numerous occasions you can't race without me."

"Well, look pretty, then. Do you think I can get to a spa before Friday? Get one of those mud baths?"

"Only one way to find out. Phone - call Belinda."

Spa treatments to impress the in-laws were apparently within Belinda's bailiwick, although she insisted on a couple's package. Darnell, however, found it difficult to get into the proper mindset. Buddy, as predicted, loved the mud bath, but drew the line at acupuncture.

"The only people I let stick needles in me are medical professionals for the express purpose of limiting the spread of infectious diseases. So you can take your tiny pain sticks and place them elsewhere."

Darnell himself lasted until the deep tissue massage, slapping away the masseur's hands before he could touch him. "Okay, only one person gets to touch this. Buddy?"

"This is not nearly as relaxing as was promised," Buddy agreed, hopping off his table. "Although the mud bath has left my fur feeling glossy and smooth."

Darnell had to agree with the assessment; Buddy rarely took the effort to do more than a quick shower, so the thorough wash he'd needed to get the mud out had left his coat with an attractive shine.

His eyes drifted, a little, down, to where Buddy's towel was casually knotted, just barely holding it in place, before he glanced away, heat flushing his cheeks and bridge of his nose. 

"Ooh, there's a sauna!"

"Nope!" Darnell pushed Buddy toward the room they'd left their clothes. "We have had enough relaxation for today; thanks everybody, we'll leave a good review on Yelp!"

"You seem high strung," Buddy said as Darnell dressed, eyes firmly on the wall opposite Buddy. Darnell nearly jumped into a locker when Buddy put a hand on his shoulder. "Darnell? Sweetie?"

"Sorry; you - surprised me."

"Aw, sorry Darnell." Arms wrapped around Darnell, Buddy's bare chest pressed against his back, and Darnell yelped, spun, and Thunder Flipped Buddy into one of the benches. He was panting hard at the scene, and Buddy's shocked expression, before his mind caught up."

"Oh my gosh Buddy I don't know what I was thinking!"

Buddy's expression eased; he didn't look upset, but he wasn't smiling, either. "It is clear you are more tense than I thought. How about we get pudding cups and you can tell me what's wrong?"

Buddy escorted Darnell to the couch when they got home, piling some two dozen pudding cups (all chocolate, which meant Buddy did not intend to eat any) around Darnell before sitting cautiously on the far end of the couch. It felt like a slight, even though Darnell knew Buddy had good reason to be nervous.

"Now, I think I might know what's going on with you, but I have a poor track record on that front, so...do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

Darnell took a deep breath; he hated this, talking about what made him feel bad. "I'm...nervous," he offered.

"About your parents? I have got that covered."

"Yes, I'm worried about my parents...among other things."

"Other…? Darnell, you are going to need to explain this a lot more clearly, because as we have established, I am bad at reading between the lines."

Darnell grumbled and sank into the couch, wishing Godzilla or something could start rampaging through Greasepit, if only to keep him from having to say it aloud.

"You were basically naked in there."

"I had a towel-"

"Somehow that did not help."

"Darnell…" Buddy shifted closer, just an inch, but it was enough of an invitation that Darnell lunged, knocking over the pudding to pillow his head on Buddy's lap. "We had this conversation. I remember because I was not aware you could turn that shade of red."

"It's a different conversation," Darnell muttered into Buddy's stomach. "My stance has not changed. Sex and you in the same thought is…definitely appealing."

"That is good to know, because the way you flipped me when I tried to give you a hug, while awesome, might lead me to think otherwise."

"I know and I feel terrible about it! I should not be throwing you into furniture outside of a wrestling match."

"To be honest, Darnell, that is the least concerning part about all of this; our lifestyle is not safe. We should both be dead a dozen times over."

"Idontwanttoruinit."

"What?"

Darnell hugged Buddy's waist tighter. "We are amazing, Buddy. We have always been amazing."

"Yes, that is our thing."

"Yeah, but...what if it's _bad_? If it turns out to be one of our terrible ideas? We can just get back up and go again after a crash, but…"

"Oh, wow, you are totally off base, there, Darnell. I love you, which is clearly a thing you need to hear more. But rest assured, your hands are some sort of magic wands that have routinely made me melt with pleasure. So first, when we get to that, you are going to _nail it_. Second, _who cares_? Darnell, every moment we spend together is amazing, so I don't care what it is we do to get there."

"Fart nugget; you can't just say things like that, Buddy," Darnell grumbled into Buddy's hip. "You're going to make me cry."

"Aw, come on, I wasn't saying that to make you sad." Buddy pulled Darnell up so they were chest-to-chest, and despite several delicate kisses to Darnell's cheeks, thankfully did not mention the still-wet tears on Darnell's face.

It helped, though; years of knowing Buddy had more or less proven he didn't just say things, or at least not to Darnell, if he didn't mean them.


	2. Chapter 2

They didn't discuss dinner, however; Buddy was certain the Fetzervalves would love him, which meant trying to explain Darnell's concerns would just spiral into an endless cycle of counter-objections.

Buddy was, however, unusually quiet on the drive over, at least until he parked at Ziel's. He turned to Darnell, close enough that Darnell could see the slight quiver to his chin.

"Okay, full disclosure, Darnell. I am freaking out a little bit. So we are going to walk in there and find a bottle of wine so I can be a charming and thoughtful guest and thus impress the heck out of your parents."

Darnell mulled over that for a minute. "You want to impress my parents...with truck stop wine."

"Yes, that is what I said. Wait, do they not like gifts?"

"I think...we might want to consider flowers."

Buddy laughed. "Flowers? From a truck stop? I want to _impress_ your parents. Come on, let's see what Leeroy has for us."

Darnell hurried after Buddy as he hopped out of the truck, pausing when he took in the dark slacks and loose shirt buttoned to the throat Buddy was wearing in place of his usual outfit. Despite all his bluster, Buddy must actually be worried about the dinner.

Inside, Buddy slammed his hand on the counter, demanding, "Your finest bottle of wine, Leeroy!"

Leeroy blinked at Buddy before peeking under the counter. "That would be the 1990 Romanee-Conti Grand Cru - $22,000 a bottle."

"Twenty-two thousand dollars...cash money?"

Leeroy glanced down again. "Yes."

"Then your eight dollar-est bottle of wine."

Buddy held it together until they were outside, at which point he dropped to the ground, bottle cradled between his legs. He sat there for a few moments before Darnell crouched, putting a hand on Buddy's shoulder.

He didn't expect Buddy's wide-eyed, tear-streaked face; Darnell reached out automatically, pulling Buddy to him.

"Buddy? Honey?"

"I'm meeting your parents with an _$8 bottle of wine_! Sure, I'm charming and handsome and an excellent racer but your parents _read books for fun_. I think they might not even...care about racing."

Darnell didn't bother lying to Buddy; his parents didn't care about racing, and would likely not be impressed by Buddy's considerable skill at the wheel. They'd never been impressed by Darnell, either.

But he did pat Buddy on the head. "Come on, it's just dinner. It's not like my parents can keep us from getting married."

Darnell wasn't certain whether he was trying to cheer up Buddy or himself, but it at least got Buddy off the ground. He caught Buddy before they got to the truck and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt.

At Buddy's inquisitively lifted eyebrows, Darnell smiled. "You're awesome, and I love you, and that's what we're showing my mother and father - not some demure nerd who can afford good wine."

That earned a crooked grin that buoyed Darnell until they reached his parents' house, just over the Dipstick County border. But he found himself slowing as he approached the front door of their home, a long, low house painted green with neat, exacting strokes. Darnell glanced back at Buddy, holding the bottle of wine loosely; when Buddy noticed Darnell's attention, he gave him a gentle smile.

Darnell took a deep breath, and then stepped behind Buddy. "You do it."

Buddy rapped his hand on the door (not, thankfully, kicking it open). The door opened only a moment later, meaning Darnell's mother had been waiting, and had possibly seen Darnell unable to knock on the door himself.

Darnell's mother was shorter than him, dark-furred, her face looking like she was wearing glasses all the time. She gave Buddy a narrow, sharp-toothed smile.

"It's...Buddy, isn't it?"

"Yes, Dr. Fetzervalve."

"I see you got our Darnell out here; that's very kind of you."

"Buddy's here for dinner, mother."

"But-" Darnell's mother's gaze flicked across Buddy. "Oh. Yes, I see." She turned back toward the interior of the house. "Scott! You can put away the good wine!" She was smiling politely, a little tightly, when she returned. "Well! Why don't you come in, Buddy, and there you are, Darnell! Stand up straight; you've been raised better than that. Come along; your father made salmon. You eat fish, I hope, Buddy?"

It was like being sixteen again, Darnell's mother chattering on, not bothering to let Darnell answer in case he said what she didn't expect to hear.

"If I recall, you do street racing?"

"No, we have a track. Sherriff Cannonball does not like street racing, and we find it best not to antagonize him."

"A wise philosophy." 

They stepped into the living room, where Darnell's father lounged next to the bar cart. He'd always loomed large in Darnell's memory, though he was only a little taller than Buddy, although broader than either of them. He looked up, pale fur on his face giving him the appearance of a permanent smile, and raised a glass. "Darnell! I can make you up a sidecar if you'd like. And…" He paused as he caught sight of Buddy. "And...what can I get you...son?"

"This is Buddy, Scott. He was one of Darnell's friends in high school."

"Hm. Computer club?"

"Ha, no, we met at lunch, er, sir. And then shop?"

"He's the racer Darnell's been living with, Scott."

"Well. And what would you like to drink?"

Buddy fiddled anxiously with the wine bottle, giving Darnell a desperate glance.

"Oh! I see you brought us some wine...from Arkansas. We'll let that breathe before dinner, and Scott can make you a martini."

"Shaken, not stirred," Buddy quipped.

Darnell's parents both looked at him, expressions blank for an interminably long moment.

"He's quoting a movie, father. James Bond?"

Darnell's parents laughed in unison.

"Oh, goodness! I thought he was serious for a moment. A shaken martini?"

"It bruises the gin," Darnell's mother explained to Buddy as Darnell's father stirred an ice-filled glass. "Now I'll put this wine on the table…"

Darnell's father dropped a pickled onion into the glass, making Buddy wince. "There you go, son. And I'll get yours in a moment, Darnell."

Buddy stared at his drink for a few moments while Darnell's father busied himself at the cart, sniffing it cautiously.

"Why does this smell like a pine tree?" he hissed at Darnell. "I don't drink trees."

"Yeah, I wouldn't recommend asking for a vodka martini. Thank you, father." Darnell took his drink and sipped at it; he'd never managed to convince his father he didn't love sidecars, which gave the drink a sort of grim familiarity.

"Come on, boys, sit!" Darnell's father sat on a stiff chair and gestured at the sofa. Darnell wavered for a moment before sitting closer to his father, Buddy settling close enough to nudge with his knee. "Now, you know our Darnell pretty well, I'd say - you're marrying him, so I'd hope so."

"Oh, yes! He is absolutely my best friend in the world. He's the best mechanic I have ever seen, and a fantastic co-pilot. I wouldn't be nearly as successful without his help...er, sir."

"You can call me Scott."

"And call me Suzanne." Darnell's mother slid into the chair on the other end of the couch, a glass of pink wine dangling from her fingers. "You're quite a skilled racer, aren't you? We still get the Greasepit Gazette, you know."

"You do?" Darnell choked. He took a gulp of his drink to shield himself for a moment, discovering a moment too late Buddy had switched their glasses, apparently incapable of stomaching the gin. If they read the Greasepit Gazette, there was no way his parents didn't know he spent an inordinate amount of time supporting an alleged trucking company instead of what a man with a master's degree in mechanical engineering should be doing with his life.

"Oh, yes. I remember what a colorful place Greasepit was when you were in school. It was a shame about the election, by the way."

"Attention to detail's important; Darnell could have helped you avoid that sort of mistake."

Darnell took another gulp of Buddy's martini.

"You say that, but I would not be where I am today without his constant support. He directed all of my campaign ads."

"Darnell did like messing about with cameras in school, don't you remember, Scott?"

The next ninety minutes passed like that, some sort of passive aggressive tennis match, with Darnell's parents offering a compliment, Buddy lobbing back an attempt to deflect praise onto Darnell, only for Darnell's parents to expertly return a complete dismissal of Darnell's accomplishments. Luckily, Buddy's second martini carried Darnell through to dinner, and Leeroy's $8-est bottle of wine was around 30% alcohol, so Darnell was feeling more cheerful about the evening than he might have any other night.

And then…

"Now let's hear about this engagement. What made an accomplished young man like you settle-"

Darnell couldn't take it anymore. He shoved his chair away and stormed from the dining room. He vaguely remembered the guest room he'd used the last Christmas he'd stayed with his parents, and made for that rather than sit through another second of dinner with them.

He ended up in the guest bathroom, instead, shaking with his hands braced against the sink, not certain if he wanted to cry or hit something. Buddy had always been a sort of buffer against the blow to his self-esteem most people's indifference to him would otherwise be. But to hear, on top of everything, else, his parents wondering what a person as awesome as Buddy was doing with Darnell-

Darnell swiped at his eyes and sniffed, hoping he wouldn't end up bawling in here; he hadn't done that since he was thirteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Bruising" gin actually refers to aerating it, which presumably does change the flavor. 
> 
> And sorry, I don't know why this turned into Emotionally Distant Parents Making Darnell Cry.


	3. Chapter 3

Scott and Suzanne were silent for a few moments before Suzanne smiled broadly at Buddy.

"Really, Buddy, I'd love to hear why you decided to marry our Darnell."

Buddy glanced after Darnell, but with Darnell out of sight, he wasn't certain how to find him. Which left him in the position of explaining to the Fetzervalves exactly how amazing he found their son.

"Oh, where do I start? Did you know he built my truck from the ground up?"

"You mean that little project he had in high school?"

"Haha, no. Darnell has lots of 'little projects', but the Rabble Rouser is not one of them. That is a labor of love, the key to our livelihoods. But man, some of his little projects are great. He made a rideshare app for a week, and did this awesome thing with a Speak and Spell for a crazy dude we know who can't talk. He even briefly achieved his dream of being a rock star...I think we still have the Nobel Prize his song won lying around somewhere."

"A Nobel Prize," Suzanne said flatly.

"Yeah, in Medicine, I think. Anyway, you wanted to know why I am marrying your baby boy. So, he built the Rabble Rouser, and well, I had never received such a generous gesture in my life. And he is a fantastic second while on the road - an excellent listener, a comforting shoulder, and a man always willing to consider how life can be awesome."

"Well," Scott began.

"And do not get me started on how much of a sweetheart he is, and I do not just mean building me the Rabble Rouser. He knows exactly what snacks to get me when I am feeling down, and buys me those little gummy vitamins so we don't have to eat kale chips to keep ourselves healthy. He wrote me my own theme song for my twentieth birthday. He knows I have been learning to cook, and never asks me to make anything."

"He-"

"When I had the flu two years ago, he got my cousin Muncie to deliver hot wings to my bedside. And he is diligent! I cannot remember a day he hasn't been working my our Rabble Rouser, on top of making sure the garage is not a disaster zone. He is not even get mad seeing I have not quite learned how to be good at that.

"And he is funny, as I am sure you know. He is excellent at impressions, which is a boon to our pre-race taunts, and that quick wit has left me speechless on more than one occasion…"

Buddy paused in his explanation when Darnell slunk back to his seat. Buddy grinned at Darnell, who could barely manage one in response. Buddy looked up to the Fetzervalves, about to ask to leave so he could coddle his clearly sad fiancé, when Scott cleared his throat.

"Ah, son, good to see you. I'd worried you'd gotten lost."

"No, I remembered how to get around," Darnell muttered, sounding muted.

"Oh, well, you shouldn't worry. We had plenty of time to talk with Buddy."

"I hope he didn't spend too much time talking to you about racing; I know you aren't that interested."

"No, he discussed a...shared interest," Suzanne said at last.

"At length."

Darnell swung his head around to Buddy, eyes narrowed. "What do you and my parents have in common?"

"Well," Suzanne said haltingly. "He loves you very much."

"And he's...proud of what you've accomplished."

Darnell sat up straight, head swiveling between his parents. "What are you talking about? Buddy?"

Buddy shrugged, because there was clearly a level to this conversation he did not currently follow.

"Mother?"

"Your fiancé has spent the last…"

"Twenty-seven minutes."

"The last twenty-seven minutes expounding on exactly how lucky he is to have the chance to marry you."

"Oh my gosh." Darnell slid down in his seat, face pinking from his blush. "Look, Buddy just does that. They had to edit out every mention of me from this television interview because otherwise it would have been forty-five minutes of him explaining how I'm his inspiration."

"I find myself unsurprised," Suzanne drawled, before abruptly ducking her head in a mimic of the same gesture when Darnell was embarrassed. "But it was…"

"Well, we realized we don't tell you often that…"

"We're proud of you," Suzanne blurted. "Oh, it was a shock when we realized you'd decided to hang around here rather than go onto school, but…"

"You're clearly doing well for yourself, at the very least for earning Buddy's...effusive affections."

"Oh my goodness, Scott, you can acknowledge that the Nobel Prize is impressive without straining yourself."

"Of course it is, but the Nobel Prize Committee isn't going to lecture me for half an hour about how 'awesome' my son is."

Buddy wasn't quite certain about the subtext of the conversation, but he could read Darnell's expression perfectly. That awe and teary joy focused on Buddy meant Darnell wanted a quiet place to demand Buddy just hold him. So Buddy turned up the charm.

"Well, it has been a pleasure, Dr. and Mr. Fetzervalve, but I think Darnell is worn out, so we are going to head out. Obviously you will get an invitation when we figure out the exact date and all, but until then, feel free to call."

They'd barely gotten back into the truck when Darnell barreled into Buddy's side, face pressed against his chest. "You stupid, sweet dog," Darnell muttered.

Buddy reached out to pat Darnell's side awkwardly before deciding also to kiss the top of his head. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I do not remember doing anything particularly notable."

"Hah," Darnell huffed. "My parents asked you why you're marrying me, and you told them. At length."

"Pfft, I was just getting warmed up."

Darnell didn't make any noise, but his shaking suggested he was laughing. "I've never heard either of them say they were proud of me my entire life. And I think they just sort of...assumed I'd know they loved me. And then you rave at them for twenty-seven minutes about how great I am and they tell me they're proud of me just to compete with that."

Buddy grinned. "So...do you think they liked me?"

Darnell snorted again. "You dork. Of _course_ they did."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should feel lucky I didn't transcribe that entire 27-minute conversation.


End file.
